• Walking into the room, I took a seat in the middle chair and set my backpack down by my feet. I had just gotten out of school and my dad drove me here, so I didn't have time to drop it off at home. I could have kept it in the car, but I have a nervous habit I guess. The room was white all around. There was a chair to the left and right of me, and in front of me was a swivel chair. Behind that chair was a desk with a computer on it, and between me and the swivel chair was a coffee table. It was the same routine every week: Tuesdays and Thursdays I come into this room for an hour. My psychiatrist took a seat in the swivel chair and crossed her legs so that she wouldn't flash her panties with the short skirt she wore.
    She must have been in her forties, so it made her look like she was in denial about her age because of the way she dressed.

    Most therapists and psychologists wore longer skirts or slacks, but she looked all dolled up just like the harlots in my school. Her hair was long and she looked so tired that it seemed as if she would rather be sleeping than making money by having me in this damn room. Something that I always enjoyed to do is really mess with therapists, so I figured I'd have some fun.
    "Hiii, Audrey. How was your day today?" She asked.
    "Great. It was wonderful," I said. A large frown spread across her face.
    "Oh come on. You tell your family you're just "great" but I know your not doing great. Come on, really. Tell me the truth. I'm your therapist, you can tell me anything."
    "Okay, well. Today I found a twenty so I kept it. I could have used it to buy something to eat but honestly, I'd rather keep it for something I really really need."
    "Did you eat anything today?" She asked.
    "No. Well, kind of. I got a few of these weird organic chips, that have like almost no fat in them, from a guy that sat behind me. To tell you the truth, I think he has an eating disorder. Whenever we're in a class that throws a party and a teacher brings donuts or something, he'll ask to get a pass to the nurses office because he supposedly has a "stomach ache", but nobody buys it anymore."

    My therapist was just bobbing her head and nodding as if to confirm that she was listening to me rather than her being in her own world. I started to get this weird idea of joking with her or confusing her.
    "Alright...," she said, taking practically an hour just to think of what to ask me next. She did that all the time, as if the next thing that came out of her mouth would be the answer for a million dollar question that she desperately wants to answer correctly. "So, you had an okay day?" She never really understood me. Nobody really understands me, but it's her career to do so, so I guess she just kind of pretends she does. I wondered what it would be like for her family or for her husband to have her constantly judging and evaluating the way they behaved. She worked several hours a day so it was probably hard to separate work from life.
    "Yeah, my day was alright. I mean, it was okay. But, today I met this girl. She's kind of amazing in a way."
    "Oh, really? What did you find amazing about her?" She asked, as if I wasn't going to continue. They never tended to trust anybody younger than them to complete their entire idea.

    "Well, I mean, I had never talked to her prior to today. She's this kind of weird loner and cast out type person who tries to do well and tries to do good in school while being one of a kind. Today we had a substitute teacher who told us to do this writing assignment in pairs. He grouped me with that weird girl. We finished and had like half an hour left, so she kind of started talking to me. It was kind of weird. She's that type of person that is socially bi-polar. Like, some days she'll speak up in class and raise her hand every other question. And then other days she'll just kind of sit there and do her work quietly and never say a single word."

    My therapist was just watching me and listening to me. When I talk or rant about things around a therapist I tend to never look them in the eyes. They'd probably say it's an inferiority complex type thing, but I'm not buying it. I started to tap my fingers and wring my wrists a bit, but as I saw my therapist looking directly at what I was doing- I quit and just continued talking.
    "So, she leaned over to me and asked me what was wrong with her. It kind of freaked me out so I asked her 'what?' and she just began to rant. She asked me if I felt like my right wing was growing yet. She told me every day she felt that she had a left wing in her back, but that the right one just won't grow. She told me that she felt like she was rotting, and she asked me if I was rotting too. She asked me if peace would ever replace war and fighting. She asked me if I ever felt like I would one day change the world but just didn't know when it would happen. I was just staring at her with my mouth agape and wondering how all of this could come out of such a mixed person. It was kind of scaring me, but at the same time I understood.

    "Next, she asked me 'why do people hurt people who hurt people, and why do people hurt people who don't hurt anybody?' but I just couldn't think anymore. She said she felt like running away or jumping off of a cliff to find out what happens after death. The girl kind of leaned back into her desk because when she was saying all of this she practically jumped forward and out of her seat. All she said is that she was fed up with hate and all the cruelties of the world, and that she really didn't understand life at all, or people. It made sense to me kind of. I mean, she was the type of girl to sit around and watch everybody around her fall in love while she kind of withers away. The type that watches people around her live their lives while she questions the fabric of life itself."

    At this point, I was practically jumping out of my seat. It almost looked like I was scaring my therapist, but she had this nonchalant guise. I could see through it though, I really could. I was almost laughing or shouting at this point, actually. She began to shift in her seat, bringing her leg down to cross the opposite leg. She was in that position so long that it probably had fallen asleep by then. At least, to me it felt like I had been sitting here for hours. After she adjusted herself she kind of scratched her head, then brought her hands together on her knees. "So... about this girl. Could you... relate to her?" She asked. That made me kind of laugh almost.

    "Yeah. It almost drove me nuts. I knew exactly what she was talking about. There was not a single word she said that I didn't entirely get. But, I never thought anybody would be like that. Not in this town. I thought it was a one in five million type thing but-" my therapist cleared her throat loudly. Very loudly. She smiled slightly and apologized and told me she had to end the session. It was five minutes before it officially ended, but she cut them a bit short all the time. I stood up and said good bye to her and she said she'd see me Tuesday. I grabbed my backpack and walked out to the parking lot and my dad was sitting there in his truck, turning on the engine once he saw me. I hopped in and set my backpack back down and buckled my seat belt. I began to wonder what the hell was wrong with my therapist. Was that an actual girl I met? No. In fact, the person I was talking about was me. Yet, my stupid therapist didn't even get it. They never get anybody, especially me.